


piss off your parents

by trashmouthuris



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Beverly Marsh Knows Everything, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Bisexual Stanley Uris, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24695683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashmouthuris/pseuds/trashmouthuris
Summary: stan is tired of his parents thinking he's the perfect child, so he enlists richie as his fake boyfriend to try and prove them wrong.
Relationships: Richie Tozier/Stanley Uris
Comments: 13
Kudos: 75





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> i'm really leaning into fanon richie with this one because that's kind of the whole point, okay? i promise it's on purpose.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stan - well, technically beverly - has an idea.

“Do you think I’m a goody two-shoes?” Beverly heard from the other side of her locker door. She closed it to reveal Stan, looking his usual put-together and slightly stressed. She furrowed her brows.

“Not really? I mean, you could stand to live a little more but you’re also the only one who can drink me under the table.” He didn’t answer, leaning against the locker neighboring Beverly’s. “Why, what’s up?”

“My parents seem to have the idea that I can do no wrong, and it’s starting to piss me off.” He readjusted the books in his hands, holding them to his chest. Beverly drew her eyebrows together in confusion.

“What about your bar mitzvah? Also, why is that a bad thing?” Stan seemingly did not hear the latter question because he was suddenly up in arms about the former. 

“I know! You’d think that would have done something, but other than some scolding the day it happened and some slight passive aggression from my dad for the next week, they basically act like it never happened. I don’t know how to make them see that I’m capable of making mistakes. That I’m fucking human.” He sighed. Beverly shrugged and leaned against her locker. 

“You need to do something they can’t ignore. You should get a boyfriend.” Stan scoffed at this idea.

“Please. They’ll just think it’s a phase or something.” He had known he was bisexual since freshman year, but in the three years following he had kept it from practically everyone he knew. He wasn’t sure how his parents would react and part of him wasn’t inclined to find out. 

“Maybe, but it’s worth a shot, isn’t it? You could date someone they’ll hate,” her eyes scanned the hallway and lit up when they landed on someone standing at the row of lockers opposite them. “You could date Richie.” 

Stan turned to follow Beverly’s gaze. Richie stood at his locker, chatting with their mutual friend Bill. Richie towered above the other boy, as well as his locker, having what seemed to be a continuous growth spurt since the eighth grade. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had a real conversation with him - maybe around the same time, or was it ninth grade? Even though they barely spoke anymore, it wasn’t hard to tell that he’d grown into his personality since then. Stan took in his beat-up sneakers, his wild hair, his dark denim jacket adorned with what seemed to be hundreds of pins and patches.

“Come on. Richie would never go for me.”

“You don’t have to actually date him, you just have to make your parents think you’re together… unless you do actually want to date him?” Beverly’s grin turned mischievous as Stan’s face immediately turned a bright red.

“What? Richie? Of course not!” His words ran together as he shook his head, as if to shake the thought from his mind. The bell rang, much to Stan’s relief. Beverly patted him on the shoulder.

“Whatever you say, Stan.”

-

Stan tried his best to focus on his schoolwork, but his mind kept wandering back to Richie. If he was being honest with himself, Richie seemed like the perfect person to both make his parents angry and be crazy enough to go through with the whole fake dating idea. Of course, the plan would go to shit if Richie was already dating anyone, but Stan was almost certain he was single. Not that he was keeping track or anything. 

Once Stan finalized the decision, he knew he needed to ask Richie before he chickened out. They had study hall together but Richie often skipped this period, claiming he didn’t need to study (something Stan had always envied him for). This was the case today and Stan would have been worried had he not seen the taller boy in the hall that morning. After taking some time to psych himself up, he asked his teacher for the hall pass and headed to where he anticipated Richie would be. 

He was correct. Stan found a rock wedging open a side door leading to a small faculty parking lot, keeping it from locking. He pushed it open to find Richie leaning against the wall with a lit cigarette, scrolling on his phone. It was unusually cold for the season, and a beanie covered his hair and protected his ears from the crisp autumn air. Stan shivered as he stepped out, remembering he had left his jacket on his seat back in the classroom. Richie turned his head as he heard the door settle back into its near-closed state.

“Well if it isn’t Stan the man himself! To what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“I, uh,” Stan focused his gaze on Richie’s shoes. “I have a proposition for you.”

“You gotta at least buy me dinner first, baby.” Richie grinned wickedly. Stan felt himself blush for the second time that day, but he pressed on, determined.

“That’s kind of the proposition, actually-” He started, but Richie cut him off with a gasp and a clutch of an imaginary string of pearls.

“Why, mister Stanley Uris! Are you asking me on a date?” He exclaimed in a crude impression of a southern belle. Stan crossed his arms, partly in frustration, partly because he was only wearing a t-shirt and he was getting cold. Richie noticed this and wordlessly gave him his jacket, which Stan accepted. He would have complained about Richie getting cold, but he wore a plaid flannel over his t-shirt, so Stan figured he would be fine. 

“Can you let me finish, asshole?” Richie remained silent, raising his eyebrows. “I need your help with something. But you have to promise not to laugh.” 

“I cross my heart and hope to die, Staniel.” Richie said solemnly with a hand over his heart. Stan braced himself for laughter anyway.

“I need you to date me.” Richie nearly dropped his cigarette. “Not for real, just so- uh- I really should have worded that differently. Shit.” Stan rubbed his eyes while Richie recovered. 

“Is there a purpose to this hypothetical relationship, or do you just have no game whatsoever?”

“There’s a purpose. Are you doing anything tonight? I need some time to figure out how to explain this better.” Richie nodded.

“I have a shift at Penny’s, but we can talk on my break. You can buy me a milkshake,” he said with a wink. Stan rolled his eyes. “How’s 5?” 

“Works for me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to study hall. Because some of us actually have to study.” He removed Richie’s jacket and returned it. Richie saluted him as Stan turned back to the door.

“Couldn’t be me!” He yelled after him. Though neither would admit it, both boys had smiles on their faces in anticipation of their meeting.

-

Stan was certain he was at Richie’s work before Richie was. He had planned to be there early, but he had been sitting at the counter for ten minutes now and he had yet to actually see Richie. He was about to text him asking if he was going to show, when he realized that he didn’t have his number, and Richie sauntered in from the kitchen. 

“Took you long enough,” Stan said, sipping his water.

“Yeah, yeah, I was getting chewed out by my manager for being late, I don’t need it from you too. Also, I’m washing dishes today so you wouldn’t have seen me anyways.” He threw a dish towel over his shoulder. “Can I get you anything before we begin?”

Stan shook his head. “I have my water.” 

“Hmm… no. How about you find us a booth for some privacy and I will whip something up for you? I’m thinking one of my specialty milkshakes, two straws.” He didn’t wait for an answer, just tapped Stan on the nose and returned to the kitchen.

Stan did as he was told, finding a booth that was a safe distance from the diner’s other customers. He waited for another five minutes before Richie arrived. He had kept his word, bringing with him a monstrosity of a milkshake with two straws. 

“It’s not nice to keep a boy waiting, you know,” Stan said, taking a sip from the milkshake and cringing at the taste - mint and strawberry with caramel drizzle. Richie shrugged.

“Depends on what you’re into,” he took a sip from his straw and was seemingly unfazed by the clash of flavors. Stan was amazed. “So, what is your proposition, Staniel?”

“Basically, I want to prove to my parents that I’m not as perfect as they think, and I think dating you is the way to go. Or, pretending to date you, at least.” Richie listened attentively, drawing circles on the table with his finger. 

“Ah yes, good old fashioned teenage rebellion. Though I must ask, what’s in it for me?”

Stan had to think for a moment. He hadn’t really thought about that. He thought that sounded kind of selfish, but honestly, he wasn’t sure how Richie would react to the idea.

“Honestly? Nothing. The idea that you are causing chaos in the Uris household.” 

“Good enough for me. I’m in. On one condition, though.” Richie grinned, and Stan cringed preemptively at what the condition might be. 

“What is it?” 

“You have to finish the milkshake.”

Stan was very worried about what he was about to get himself into.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stan and richie attempt to fool stan's parents, but they're probably just making fools of themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok this is like, two and half times as long as the first chapter i'm so sorry smklsdf.. also i forgot to mention last time that this fic is loosely based off of the song 18 by anarbor, which is also where the title comes from. enjoy!

Stan and Richie’s first “date” did not go exactly as planned - in fact, it didn’t go according to Stan’s plan at all. He should have known Richie would have plans of his own. They had decided at the diner that Stan would mention first that he was meeting up with his boyfriend, and then the following week he would introduce him to his parents. Instead, Richie turned up at his front door at 7:30 PM on Friday night while Stan was washing dishes. 

Stan nearly dropped the glass he was drying when there was a loud rap at the door; his parents were sitting at the table in silence reading the newspaper and scrolling through Facebook, and Stan had the radio playing quietly, so Richie’s obnoxious knocking shattered their comfortable silence. His parents looked to him, their confusion mirrored on Stan’s face. 

“Staniel! Are you ready for this absolute rager?” Richie practically yelled the moment Stan opened the door, to which Stan could only widen his eyes at in confusion. Richie barreled past him, talking rapidly about a party they had supposedly agreed to go to. 

Once inside, Stan’s parents looked from Richie - who had grown silent - to Stan and back. Stan was at a loss for words. 

“Are you going to introduce us?” His mother asked. Richie draped his arms around Stan’s shoulders, not quite able to get his chin on top of his head. 

“You mean you haven’t been raving to your parents about your wonderful boyfriend, Stan?” Stan tensed at this. His parents were visibly shocked, but neither spoke up. 

“This is- uh. This is my boyfriend. Richie.” Stan gestured to the boy practically hanging off him. He wasn’t sure if his parents were too stunned to respond or just had nothing to say. His dad recovered first.

“So what’s this about a party?”

By the time they were out the door almost fifteen minutes later, Stan was punching Richie’s arm.

“What the hell was that? That is not what we discussed!” He whisper-yelled. Richie rubbed his arm.

“It worked though, didn’t it? That was totally disrespectful! Your folks must hate me.” Stan could only sigh at how proud of himself he sounded, though he couldn’t argue. He started walking towards Richie’s truck. 

“Please tell me we aren’t actually going to a party.” 

“Nah, I figured we could go to the arcade or something. I can kick your ass at Street Fighter,” Richie said, ruffling Stan’s hair. 

They didn’t talk on the ride over. Richie played some obnoxious electronic pop, if that’s how you could describe it - Stan thought it sounded like something going very wrong in a microwave. He later switched to very loudly singing along to Africa by Toto, which Stan didn’t hate. The arcade looked busy for a Friday night and they had to walk quite a bit once they finally found a parking spot. 

Once inside, Richie practically sprinted to find the Street Fighter machine. Stan smiled at his enthusiasm and followed. Much to Richie’s luck, his machine was not currently occupied, and when Stan finally caught up he found the taller boy bouncing on the balls of his feet waiting for him. Richie did, in fact, kick Stanley’s ass at first, but after a few miserable defeats he starts to teach him how to actually play. He tried to pull a cheesy rom-com move and wrap his arms around Stan to guide his hands at one point, but Stan immediately pushed him off with a roll of his eyes. Stan found himself appreciative of the limited lighting in the arcade keeping Richie from seeing his bright red face. 

Time seemed to have slipped away from them because eventually some kids started to get mad at the older boys for hogging the machine. Richie was a little too willing to fight the group of ten-year-olds, even though Stan was sure he would lose despite his height advantage, so he resolved to pulling Richie away from the machine and bringing him to the small food court. After he had ordered, he was about to comment on how overpriced the meals were when he looked down to see Richie paying for both of their meals. 

“I would have paid for that, you know,” Stan said once they had found a table. Richie just shrugged, as if to say it was nothing. “Well, aren’t you just a gentleman.” 

“Well, this is a date, isn’t it?” Stan just looked at him, unsure of how to respond. He was sure he was red again. He looked down at his food.

“Um. We should set up some rules, or guidelines, or something. For this.” He gestured between them. Richie sat with one foot on the seat next to him, propping his arm on his knee. He took a sip from his soda.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. What did you have in mind, Stanny boy?” Stan grabbed a napkin that Richie hadn’t yet used to mop up pizza grease and a pen from his shirt pocket, and began a list.

“Well, first of all, no actual kissing.” Richie’s eyebrows shot up at this. He was about to contest, but he was still chewing, and Stan gave him a warning look. They sat in silence for a moment waiting for Richie to finish.

“Why not? How are we supposed to convince people if I can’t kiss you?” 

It may not have been the only reason he opposed this rule, but Stan didn’t need to know that. 

“It feels too… real? Besides, there are other ways to show affection.” He ignored Richie’s wagging eyebrows and continued, “Also, do we want to try and convince everyone? Or just my parents?”

“Well, that depends. Do we need to be worried about your parents bringing it up to other people and blowing our cover?” Stan considered this for a second, but his train of thought was derailed by Richie sipping loudly from his now empty cup. Stan gave him another pointed look to which Richie responded with a toothy smile. Stan just shook his head and moved on.

“I don’t think we need to worry about that right this second. My parents don’t go out that much, and I don’t think we would really be around people they talk to that often. So we can think about it and see what we want to do if a situation arises.” Richie nodded. “Also, no more surprises. I need time to prepare what I’m going to tell my parents.”

“Fine,” Richie sighed over dramatically. Stan suppressed a smile.

“Is there anything you want to add?” He asked, pushing the napkin towards Richie. Richie shook his head after looking over it thoroughly, bringing it up to his face and squinting despite the fact that he was wearing his glasses. “Great. Now, I’m going to beat your sorry ass at Dance Dance Revolution.” 

-

The following Monday, Stan sat at his usual lunch table dangerously close to falling asleep when he was woken by the slamming of another lunch tray next to him. He expected to see Beverly - his usual lunch companion - but instead he was greeted by Richie already talking a mile a minute about a run-in with Bowers he had had that morning. 

“Hello to you too,” Richie said when he noticed Stan barely listening. Stan was about to respond when Beverly arrived at the table, another boy in tow.

“I see you two are getting along swimmingly. Do you mind if Ben sits with us today?” Stan shook his head, and the two sat down. Stan waved his friend and classmate Mike over, and he noticed Richie’s friend Eddie making his way over thanks to Richie’s wildly flailing arms. 

“Eddie spaghetti! I feel like we haven’t hashed it out in forever! Tell me, how are ya?” He asked in a voice Stan couldn’t even begin to describe. Eddie’s face remained blank.

“Richie, we have homeroom together. You asked me for the calc homework at least seven times this morning.” Richie ignored this and continued on with some story about how he and Eddie had been estranged decades ago and how good it felt to see an old friend. Stan had started to tune him out by talking to Mike when Bill arrived. He looked surprised to see Stan and Richie sitting next to each other.

“I didn’t know you guys kn-knew each other,” he said. Richie threw his arm around Stan.

“You mean you haven’t heard? Mr. Uris here is being courted by lil ol’ me!” He punctuated this with a sloppy kiss on Stan’s cheek. Stan wondered when he had made the decision to keep the details of their fake relationship a secret. 

“Does it count as you courting me when I’m the one who asked you out?” He asked. Richie just shrugged.

“I feel like it’s more about the energy. Bottoms get courted.” Stan scoffed immediately.

“Oh, you are  _ not  _ the top in this situation.” Richie grinned and leaned in close to him.

“Wanna test that theory?” He almost sounded like he meant it. Stan simply shook his head with a small smile and ignored a knowing look from Beverly. 

-

Richie had quite a few shifts at the diner that week, so they couldn’t hang out outside of school again until Thursday night. Thankfully, Richie adhered to the plan this time. Stan told his parents that they were going to see a movie.

“On a school night?” His father asked, concerned. Stan nodded and assured him that he would be back as soon as it was over, that he wouldn’t be out too late. He wondered if it was obvious that he was lying. 

Instead of coming to the door this time, Richie parked outside and honked his horn about twenty times in rapid succession - apparently he wanted the whole street to hate him, not just Stan’s parents. Stan said goodbye, grabbing his coat as he hurried out the door and down the driveway. 

“I don’t know how I feel about that boy,” Donald Uris said once he heard the door shut behind his son. His wife, Andrea, looked at him from her spot on the couch where she was watching a rerun of Jeopardy. 

“Oh, let him have his fun. We were young once too, remember?” She stood up, walking to the kitchen to refill her lemonade. “Besides, at least he feels comfortable enough to tell us the truth.”

“How do we know it’s the truth? For all we know they could be doing lines in the Freese’s parking lot as we speak.” Andrea chuckled at this, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder.

“Come on, you know Stan would never do that.”

Across town, Stan was not at the movies. That came a little too close to real date territory for his liking. Instead, he was sitting cross-legged on a blanket near the banks of the Kenduskeag surrounded by five of his classmates, his fake boyfriend, and two take-out pizzas. Ben was telling them about a clubhouse he had built in middle school somewhere near where they sat. Richie shared the blanket with him, leaning back on his arms with his crossed legs stretched out in front of him. Stan’s gaze moved from Richie’s scuffed shoes to his graphic t-shirt to the freckles on his nose, not realizing Richie was watching him. When their eyes met Stan quickly looked down at his lap, then to Ben (still going on about the architectural soundness of the underground hideout) and finally back to Richie. He expected to get teased relentlessly but instead was only met with a smile.

Across the circle, Beverly sat quietly watching this interaction. She wondered how long it would take the boys to realize. There were things she knew that could drastically impact this so-called ‘fake’ relationship, could speed up the inevitable, but she held back. It didn’t feel right to force something like that. 

It was quickly getting dark, but Stan was having too much fun to realize. It had been a long time since he had felt like this with a group of people; he had had groups of friends in the past, but not like this. Once again he found himself losing track of time, not checking his watch until well past when he had promised to be home.

“Oh, shit!” He exclaimed, sitting up straight. He looked to Richie, who was leagues calmer than Stan was.

“All part of the plan, baby,” he said, quiet enough that only Stan heard it. As Stan wondered if he really had planned to stay out this long, Richie turned to the rest of the group. “Alright losers, I have gotta get Stan the man here home, but we have got to do this again sometime,” he stood up, offering a hand to Stan. The rest of the group nodded and started to collect their things to leave. 

When Stan finally pushed open his front door at 11:30, an hour past his curfew and two hours past when he said he’d be home, he still had a smile on his face from the ride home. He only remembered his situation when he saw his mother in the kitchen and froze. She was already looking at him, but she didn’t look angry, so he decided to approach.

“You’re up late,” he said, trying to gauge what she was feeling. 

“I wanted to make sure you got home safe,” she replied. She put away what looked to be the last of the dishes she had washed from her late night baking.

“Sorry,” Stan said quietly. Andrea put her hands on his shoulders before pulling him into a hug.

“I’m glad you’re having fun. And you are being safe, right?” She asked as she pulled away.

“Mom!” She just laughed before giving Stan a kiss on the cheek and bidding him goodnight. Stan shook his head, bewildered, and tried to process what just happened. 

-

A bell rang as Stan pushed open the door to Penny’s, alerting Richie of his presence. Richie stopped wiping the table he had been busing and ran over to Stan, giving him a quick hug.

“Stanthony! I wasn’t expecting you to grace this fine establishment with your presence tonight! Don’t you have better things to do on a Friday night?” 

“I’m not going to give you the answer you’re hoping for, I hope you know that,” Stan said flatly.

“And what would that be?”

“You.” Richie had to think for a moment, but then he let out a loud laugh.

“Stan the man gets off a good one! Come, sit, I’ll grab you something and then we can hang on my break.”

“Can I please have a normal milkshake this time?” Stan pleaded. Richie laughed again.

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Stan located the same booth they had sat in last time and slid in. A few minutes later, Richie arrived with two milkshakes. He slid a dark red one over to Stan and kept a green one for himself. Stan almost choked when he took the first sip.

“God, what did you put in this thing?”

“Mostly cherry, a little bit of coconut, a lot of cinnamon, and just a dash of mint,” he answered, all too proud of himself. Stan looked down at Richie’s milkshake.

“What do you have?”

“Oh, just apple.” Stan had to resist the urge to smack him. Instead, he got started on why he had shown up in the first place. 

“This isn’t working,” he said. Richie’s face dropped as he wondered what he had done wrong. Had he come on too strong? Had he made Stan’s parents too mad? He was about to ask what he had done when Stan continued, “We need to do more. I think my mom actually  _ likes  _ you.” Richie tried to ignore how disgusted Stan sounded when he said that. 

“Okay, what do we need to do?”

They spent the next half hour brainstorming ways to make Stan’s parents hate Richie more. Richie offered to “accidentally” hit one of his parents’ cars when he came to pick Stan up, but they both agreed that would be too far. By the time Richie realized he needed to get back to work they had some ideas, but none of them were very good. 

Later that night, Stan was laying in bed half paying attention to his TV when he heard something at his window. He ignored it at first, thinking it was the wind (as one does), but after a few minutes it became clear that it was not. He pushed his window open and was nearly hit with a rock, thrown by Richie, who was standing on Stan’s front lawn in his pajamas. He waved excitedly when he saw the boy in the window. This was not on the list.

“What are you doing? My parents are going to hear you!” He whisper-shouted. Richie looked confused.

“Isn’t that the whole point?” He asked. Stan opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it, then held up a finger to signal he would be down in a minute. He didn’t bother changing out of his own pajamas, just put on some shoes and a jacket before making his way down the stairs and out the front door. When he got outside, Richie was leaning against his truck, waiting.

“Is something wrong?” Stan asked. He didn’t see why else Richie would show up at his house in the middle of the night. Richie frowned.

“I just wanted to see you.” Stan stared at his face, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Richie motioned for Stan to get in the car, and got in himself. Stan was still confused, but he did as he was told. 

The radio was just loud enough to make out what song was playing. They mostly drove without speaking, Richie concentrating on the winding roads ahead of them. He didn’t slow down until they had reached one of the few high points in Derry, a cliff looking out over the Barrens.

“Did you bring me out here to kill me?” Stan questioned, only half joking. “Because my parents definitely won’t like you if you do that.” Richie didn’t say anything, just shook his head and grabbed a backpack from the back seat. He got out, and Stan followed suit. 

He followed Richie around to the front of the car, where Richie had spread a blanket taken from the backpack out on the hood of his truck. He then climbed up onto the hood and gave Stan a hand up. It took him a few tries, but eventually he was able to lay down next to Richie. Once he stopped looking at the boy next to him and looked up at the sky, he had to stop himself from gasping.

Considering how little light pollution there was in their small town, Stan probably should have been able to put it together, but he was still shocked when he took in just how many stars were in the sky. It almost seemed impossible. The sight took his breath away, and in the back of his mind, he couldn’t stop himself from making a connection to the freckles on Richie’s face.

Meanwhile, next to him, Richie was watching Stan watch the stars. He smiled as he watched his eyes scan the sky, taking in the universe in front of him. After a few minutes he broke the silence, turning away from Stan.

“Why are we doing this?” Richie asked. Stan was confused, but he didn’t look at him.

“You tell me, you’re the one who brought us out here.” 

“No, I mean…” he turned his whole body towards Stan this time, propping his head up on one hand and gesturing to the two of them with the other. “This.” Stan turned to him and mirrored his position before responding.

“I guess I just want my parents to notice, y’know? Like, they pay attention to me, but only when I’m doing what they expect me to do. Whenever I mess up they basically ignore it. Like at my bar mitzvah-” Richie nodded at this part; he remembered that day, even though they hadn’t really spoken back then. “my dad punished me for a week but then after that, it was like it never happened. But I’m worried… like, if one day I royally fuck up, what are they going to do? Are they going to ignore that too, or are they going to totally flip their shit?” Stan returned to laying on his back. “I guess I want to ease them into it. Let them know that I’m capable of making mistakes.” 

Richie said nothing, taking in what Stan had just said. In all honesty, he had no idea what to say. Instead he let them fall into a comfortable silence, where they stayed until Stan broke it a few minutes later.

“How did you know you liked boys?” He asked without looking at Richie. 

“Who says I like boys?” Richie said. Stan shot up, wide eyed, but before he could say anything Richie reached a hand out as if to try and calm him. “Relax, relax, I’m kidding. I do. Let’s see… seventh grade, the first time I watched Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure. I was obsessed with Alex Winters for a good three months.” Stan nodded in approval before returning to his previous position. “What about you?”

Stan was quiet, and Richie was worried he was about to Uno reverse card him and say that he didn’t actually like boys, this was just a part of his whole plan. When Stan finally did speak up, it was so quiet that Richie wasn’t sure if he had heard him correctly.

“You,” Stan replied. Richie froze. How was he supposed to respond to that? Did he mean now, or in the past? If it was in the past, was there still something there? Why didn’t he just ask him out for real? What do you do when the boy you’ve had a crush on for practically all of high school tells you you’re the reason he realized he liked boys? He was still searching for something to say when Stan interrupted his thoughts. “But also, Keanu Reeves in Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure.” 

Richie laughed, and the tension that had built up during their brief conversation disappeared. They stayed in that spot for hours, talking about their classes, summer jobs, who they thought was going to get together in their newly formed friend group. (Stan had his money on Beverly and Ben, while Richie claimed he had witnessed some chemistry between Bill and Mike.) And if Richie’s hand happened to slip into Stan’s at some point during their conversation, well, that’s neither here nor there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> richie stans 100 gecs and you CANNOT change my mind (as do i, stan's views on them are not my own). also i was really aiming for fanon Bad Boy richie but the more i write this i feel like it's just... regular richie? i honestly think this might be the most canon i've ever written him. idk. also, i know the milkshake flavors seem more like smoothies, but as someone who has apple in their top three ice cream flavors i promise you it would slap as a milkshake. anyways have a wonderful day/night/whatever time you're reading this <3


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> stan has some confessions to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in a shocking turn of events, this is somehow (slightly) longer than the last chapter. i honestly didn't know i was capable of writing this much.

It took a week and a half of heckling and the promise that at least one of the losers - Richie’s teasing nickname had caught on among the group - would stick with him the whole time, but Richie had finally convinced Stan to go to a real party with him. Stan had also made Richie swear he wouldn’t drink too much and make an ass of himself, but Richie considered it a win nonetheless. 

They had all piled into Richie’s truck and made their way to some random classmate’s house at 9:30 despite the fact that the party had started at eight. When they arrived, it was in full swing, the attendees mostly people in their grade and some who had graduated a year ahead of them. This was only Stan’s second party (he had been forced to go to his first by Bev), and his first party as part of a couple, so he wasn’t really sure what to expect. Hence his plan to stick with his friends the whole time. 

Richie had disappeared into the crowd with the promise of drinks for him and Stan, so Stan started moving along the wall looking for somewhere to sit. Mike and Bill trailed behind him; Eddie had gone with Richie and Beverly had somehow coaxed Ben onto the dance floor with her. Miraculously, they found an empty couch that didn’t have intoxicated teenagers trampling each other around it and quickly claimed it. 

Richie and Eddie returned shortly. Eddie claimed the remaining seat at the end of the couch, leaving the arm rest next to Stan for Richie. Richie passed one of the cups he had been holding to his boyfriend, who gave him a wary look.

“What, don’t you trust me?” Richie asked. Stan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Of course I don’t!” He had to shout over the music. When he thought he saw a flash of hurt on the taller boy’s face, he quickly amended, “What kind of drinks am I supposed to expect when your milkshakes taste like shit?” Richie laughed at this, and Stan let out a small sigh of relief.

“That’s fair. There’s no alcohol in it though, so you don’t have to worry about that.” Richie nudged Stan with his foot. Stan was once again relieved, so he took a sip, and immediately regretted it. 

“What the hell is that?” He questioned, eyes wide. Richie tried his hardest not to bust out laughing.

“Just every soda they had available. It wasn’t a very good selection, though.” Stan shoved him, nearly causing him to spill his own drink and catching the attention of the other boys on the couch, who had been engaged in their own conversation. Eddie shook his head, but he was laughing along with Mike and Bill. Richie stood up, finished off his drink and set Stan’s sorry excuse for one on a nearby table. He extended a hand to Stan. “My dearest Stanakin, may I have this dance?”

Stan hesitated. There was a small part of him afraid of making a fool of himself, but a big part of him that really wanted to dance with Richie. Though, that wasn’t his main concern with Richie’s gesture; they hadn’t addressed the last time they held hands. Sure, this was a much more casual situation, and probably wouldn’t last as long, but it was still daunting. Stan snapped out of his thoughts when he realized Richie was now waving said hand in front of his face. He grabbed it midair and stood up. Richie almost seemed surprised, but he grinned and led Stan to the makeshift dance floor. 

They danced for only four or five songs, but with the sweat they’d worked up you’d think they had been dancing for hours. When they were clearly both out of breath, Richie - voice hoarse from screaming the lyrics to Tongue Tied - offered to get them both drinks again. Stan searched the crowd first, wanting to secure another loser to stay with, nodding when his gaze landed on Beverly and Ben. He wasn’t keen on intruding on their conversation, but he knew they would understand.

Richie and Stan parted ways, and Stan was glad to see his assumption was correct, Beverly and Ben welcoming him without any complaints. They chatted about nothing for a while, discussing school projects and teachers they hated. When Stan realized Richie hadn’t returned after ten minutes, he was about to go look for him when he saw him across the room talking to another boy. He had sandy blonde curls similar to Stan’s but apart from that he didn’t recognize him.

“Is that Connor Bowers?” Ben asked, following Stan’s line of sight. Beverly nodded and Stan’s confusion grew even further. Why would Richie be talking to a Bowers? What could they possibly be talking about? 

Stan shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. He knew he shouldn’t be this concerned with what Richie was doing or who he was talking to. After all, their relationship wasn’t real. Richie could do whatever he wanted. 

Richie clearly thought so, because he didn’t seem to notice the change in Stan’s mood when he returned with their drinks. In his defense, it was a very small change at first; Stan didn’t even know what he was feeling, why should Richie know? 

Although, one of the losers did notice. Beverly had seen the way Stan’s face had changed when he saw Richie talking to Connor, had noticed the inflection in Stan’s voice when thanking Richie for his drink. She wondered just how long it would be before Stan realized. The clock was ticking.

The group left not long after. Not many of them had been drinking, so it wasn’t hard to find a designated driver, and Stan was home soon enough. Once inside, he went up to his room and flopped down onto his bed, still shrouded in darkness. He thought about the events that had unfolded that night. Why was it so hard to figure out his own damn emotions? Why did Richie have to look at Connor like that? Did he ever look at Stan that way? Did Stan want him to?

The only question Stan could come up with an answer for was the last one that had crossed his mind. When he did, realization quickly dawned on him.

“Oh, fuck.”

-

“I saw your boyfriend at the store today,” Stan’s mother said as she walked through the door, grocery bags in tow. Stan abandoned the sandwich he was making to help her, raising an eyebrow to signal her to continue. “Looked like he was trying to shove a bottle of tequila in his jacket. It wasn’t even the good kind.” Stan laughed as he grabbed the milk out of the fridge. 

“Yeah, that sounds like Richie,” he chuckled. He continued unloading the groceries without noticing that his mother had stopped, observing the smile that lingered on his face. She stood there long enough that Stan didn’t realize until he had finished the bag he was on and had turned to grab another one. “What?” He questioned before turning to the pantry.

“You really like this boy, don’t you?” She asked softly. Stan froze for a moment, but quickly recovered.

“Of course I do, he’s my boyfriend.” He responded with a nervous laugh. 

“Well, yes, but you  _ really  _ like him. For a while your father and I thought you might have just brought him home to ruffle our feathers a bit. Well, mostly your father did, but I think he was hoping that was the case so he didn’t have to seriously consider Richie Tozier as a future son-in-law,” she laughed.

Stan froze again. He considered negating her, keeping the facade up, trying to make a convincing argument. But as he stared at the shelves in front of him, he decided he was tired. He and Richie had been “together” for about a month now, and while the trick seemed to work on his dad, Stan was beginning to realize his mom was seeing right through him. He wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and took a deep breath.

“I guess it didn’t work then, did it?” He asked with a shaky laugh. Still facing the pantry, afraid to look at his mother, he didn’t see her quickly shift from confusion to realization. 

“Oh, sweetie,” she said. He finally turned to her and she pulled him into a hug. They finished putting away the groceries, but she left out the tub of ice cream she had bought earlier that day, ready for a long night.

-

Beverly stood at her locker, exchanging some of her books and not seeing Stan approaching. She was able to close her locker before he started talking, but he still made her jump.

“You have got to stop sneaking up on me like that, dude.” She exhaled. Stan didn’t respond to this, just got straight to the point.

“Have you ever been in love?” Beverly nearly dropped the textbook she was holding. Obviously she had noticed Stan had feelings for Richie, but she hadn’t expected him to drop the L word. 

“Um, I don’t really know. Why? Do you think you’re in love with Richie?” She asked. Stan’s eyes widened and he broke eye contact, trying to find something else to focus on.

“I never said it was about Richie. It was purely hypothetical,” he said hurriedly. Beverly wedged her book between her knees so she could place her hands on the sides of his face, forcing him to look at her. She didn’t have to go on her tiptoes like she would have with Richie, but it was still quite a reach. His eyes met hers begrudgingly. 

“Dude. You think I haven’t been paying attention? Don’t think I forgot the first time you told me you liked Richie. You were freaking out the exact same way.” Stan wanted to deny it again, but he knew he needed someone to confide in or else it would keep building up inside him and he would explode, probably somewhere in the near future. Beverly was the person he trusted most, and he knew she wouldn’t judge him or make fun of him too harshly.

“Fine,” he began, speaking quietly in hopes that the people passing them wouldn’t listen in on their conversation. “I have come to the realization that my feelings for Richie are no longer purely platonic. Honestly, I don’t know if they ever were, even when I thought I had gotten over my crush on him freshman year. I was talking to my mom about it the other night-” Beverly cut him off.

“Wait, you told your mom?” 

“Technically, she figured it out.” Beverly nodded approvingly.

“Go Andrea,” she said, and Stan continued.

“Anyways. I was asking her how she knew my dad was The One, but not everything matched up with how I feel about Richie, so I wanted to get more opinions on love. To see if I’m right or not.” Beverly furrowed her brows.

“Stan, not everyone’s definition of love is going to be the same. I don’t think anyone’s is, really, or if you can define it at all.” Stan nodded, thinking this over. “Honestly, I don’t know if I even believe in it.”

“What about Ben?” He asked smugly. Beverly’s face turned nearly as red as her hair and she punched him in the arm. 

“You don’t get to lecture me about crushes. Speaking of, though, Ben told me we’re all meeting at the quarry after school today. You in?” Stan nodded. Satisfied with this response, Beverly linked his arm through his and pulled him towards the lunchroom, complaining about how starving she was. 

A few hours later, Stan stood at his locker keeping himself busy while he waited for Richie - his ride to the quarry - who was currently getting a talking to from their study hall teacher. Stan had already rearranged his books and various belongings three times when Richie finally exited the classroom at the end of the hall. 

“How’d it go?” Stan asked, closing his locker, but not before Richie noticed a picture taped to the inside of the door - a shot of the pair from the first time the losers had unearthed the clubhouse Ben had built, piled on top of each other in a hammock. (They didn’t last long, what with Stan complaining about the low probability of it being structurally sound and the fact that they both were fairly lanky boys.) Richie shrugged.

“He started to tell me off for always skipping but I told him I spend all my time at the nurse’s office,” he explained. 

“Did he ask for a doctor’s note or anything?” They began making their way towards the parking lot. Richie shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t think he actually cares all that much. And it’s not like this shithole is organized enough to have any kind of records to prove me wrong.”

In the car, Richie turned up the music and rolled the windows down, and Stan would have complained if Richie hadn’t looked so cute singing along. Stan let himself stare for a while as Richie watched the road, either not noticing or at least pretending he didn’t. Stan laughed when Richie let out a gasp and somehow managed to turn the music up louder when he realized one of his favorite songs had come on the radio.

They came to a stop, and Stan noticed that the rest of the group was waiting for them outside Mike’s truck and Bev’s car. Once the last two pulled up they started undressing, preparing to swim. Stan blanched when he realized how they were getting to the water.

“I didn’t know we were going to…” he trailed off, embarrassed. 

“What, you’ve never jumped before?” Richie asked as he climbed out of the car. Stan shook his head. “Come on, you’ll be fine. I’ve done it a bajillion times and I turned out just fine, didn’t I?” He held his arms out, as if showcasing himself. Stan cocked an eyebrow.

“That doesn’t help.” He retorted. Richie mimed hurt, but said nothing. Stan gulped and did his best to prepare himself. He and Richie joined the rest of the group in undressing, compiling all of their clothes in a bag that Beverly left in her car. Stan did his best not to stare when Richie peeled off his shirt.

One by one, they lined up at the cliff, looking down into the water. As Stan looked among his friends, he noticed that none of them looked as scared as he felt. He wondered if he was the only one who had never done this before. After a moment of silence, Beverly shrugged.

“See you down there, pussies,” she said before backing up a little so she could get a running start. Stan felt his chest tighten as he watched her plummet towards the water. He only looked away when he felt one of Richie’s fingers brush against his hand.

“We don’t have to, you know,” he said softly, not paying attention as their friends took turns leaping off. 

“No, it’s fine. I just..” he trailed off once again, turning his attention back to the water. He grabbed Richie’s hand without looking at him. Richie gave his hand a squeeze, and they took a running jump off the cliff. 

It didn’t feel as long as Stan had anticipated it to. Maybe it would have, if he had been focusing on the air rushing past him or the water rapidly getting closer, but instead all he could think about was the feeling of Richie’s hand in his. He had already fallen well before he jumped. 

When they crashed through the surface they were met with water that was predictably cold, but refreshing nonetheless. Stan expected Richie to let go of his hand once they had reached the bottom but he held tight, using it to drag the boy over to where their friends had landed. He didn’t let go until someone had suggested a game of chicken and Richie scrambled to get Stan onto his shoulders. (They ended up losing, but it meant that Richie got to make his joke about it not being the last time his head would be between Stan’s thighs that day, which he was proud of despite the groans it elicited from the losers.)

Eddie was the first to get out of the water, shivering. Mike and Ben followed, and soon the whole group sat on the shore drying out in the sun. The sun could only do so much, though, so Beverly volunteered to get the clothes and towels that sat in her car. Much to Stan’s surprise, Richie offered to help her, and off they went.

Stan sat silently for a moment while the other boys talked, admiring the stillness of the trees and the faint sounds of birds chirping. When Bill made his way over and sat down next to him and asked what he was looking at, Stan wasn’t sure if he was genuinely interested or only asking because he wanted to make Stan feel included. He didn’t think he cared either way. Stan would take any chance to talk about birds. 

And talk about birds he did. He was so engulfed in his description of what he was sure was a Northern Shrike that he didn’t notice Richie and Beverly returning with the towels, didn’t notice the way Richie’s face changed when he saw the way he was talking to Bill, the way Bill was looking at him. Maybe if he did he would have noticed that it was awfully similar to the look Stan had had on his face at a party a while back. 

(Of course, Beverly noticed. Beverly always noticed.)

Stan did notice, however, the way Richie seemed subdued for the rest of the evening. He still cracked jokes, but they were half-hearted and few and far in between. Richie avoided Stan’s eyes every time he tried to meet them and wordlessly ask why. The car ride home was quiet despite Stan’s attempts at witty remarks and thinly veiled comments on Richie’s current state. The dark haired boy dropped him off, saying he would see him at school on Monday, and Stan stood on the sidewalk until he saw Richie’s tail lights disappear around the corner.

-

Everything seemed to go back to normal the following week, and Stan felt somewhat confident that he and Richie were doing pretty well. That is, until Wednesday afternoon when they were laying on Stan’s bed watching Netflix. They were supposed to be studying but once Stan had laid out everything he needed on the desk Richie had flopped down onto the bed, remote in hand, and somehow convinced Stan to join him. 

It hadn’t taken much convincing, really. He had put on a movie and made grabby hands at Stan who initially responded with a glare but soon was closing his laptop and making his way over to the bed. He rested his head on Richie’s shoulder and silently questioned his choice in movies. Richie had been making jokes about it for a while, but eventually he grew silent.

“So if we’re fake dating, does that mean we have to fake break up?” He asked Stan quietly once the movie ended. Stan sat up and turned to look at him.

“What?”

“I mean, we’ve been acting like a couple at school and stuff, so do we need to have some public break up or do we just stop?” Stan’s brows were furrowed, but Richie’s face was completely neutral.

“Why?” Stan asked. He really hoped he didn’t sound as hurt as he felt.

“Well, believe it or not, I’ve got people asking after me, wondering if I’m single. I’m sure you do too. Why are we still doing this? I feel like we’ve made your point by now.”

“I don’t. Have people asking after me, I mean.” Stan said. 

“What about Bill?” Richie asked, the slightest bit of bitterness in his voice. Stan shook his head.

“Bill and I aren’t- what?” He cut himself off, not sure how Richie could even fathom them as a couple. He turned away from Richie before continuing. “I didn’t think it felt that fake anymore.” 

“I mean, we’ve never even kissed. It’s not like you’re in love with me.”

Stan took a moment to think about what he had discussed with his mom, with Beverly. Sure, there was a chance that he wasn't in love with Richie, that this was just a really intense crush. But it was a chance he was willing to take.

“Maybe I am.” 

“How can you be so sure? You don’t even know what I’m like in the sack,” he poked Stan in the ribs. Stan didn’t think it was funny.

“Does everything have to be a joke to you?” He asked, finally turning to face Richie. Richie’s face fell with a small gulp.

“It’s fuckin' scary, man. I don’t think I even know what love feels like.” His voice went quiet again. Stan gave him a small smile.

“Well, shit, neither do I. But I do know how you make me feel,” he said. He turned his back to Richie once again. “I know that you’re the only person I want to make laugh when I make a joke. That every time I walk through the hallways at school I find myself looking for you. I know that being with you scares the shit out of me because I’m worried that I’ll make a fool of myself and you’ll realize you don’t actually like me, that you could be with someone way cooler and you’ve been wasting your time with me. I don’t know how to describe the way my stomach feels when you smile, or the way my chest hurts when I see you with someone else. But I do know that you’re the only person who’s ever made me feel like this.” 

Stan let out a breath, surprised at his own words. He expected Richie to make another joke, to tease him for being so vulnerable, but instead all he heard was the sound of the blankets shifting beneath them. When he turned to see what Richie was doing he was met by the other boy’s face inches from his. Stan’s breath caught in his throat. Richie stared at him for a moment, before bringing his hand up to Stan’s face and closing the gap between them.

Even though both boys had waited a long time for it, the kiss was slow, steady. Stan didn’t know how to describe it other than that it felt so  _ right _ . 

“Would you say it feels something like that?” Richie asked when he finally pulled away with a grin on his face. Stan rolled his eyes, but he was smiling too.

“You know, you don’t always have to one-up me.”

“It’s not like I’m trying! It just happens…” Richie tried to defend himself but trailed off as Stan brought him in for another kiss, and they collapsed back onto the bed and onto each other. 

The next day at school, Stan sat at the losers’ regular lunch table, Richie’s arm draped around his shoulders. He was in the middle of a quiet conversation with Beverly about the events of the previous night when he noticed Connor Bowers across the lunchroom. They made eye contact, Connor’s gaze moving between Stan and Richie. Stan looked to Richie to see if he had noticed the other boy, but Richie was fervently arguing with Eddie about what movie the group should see that weekend. 

For a second, Stan let himself think that Richie might notice Connor across the room and realize he could do better. But when Richie turned to Stan and saw him looking, giving him a quick kiss without having to think about it, Stan realized he had nothing to worry about. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that's all folks! i hope you enjoyed it and i hope you have a great day/night/whatever because time isn't real but i hope you're doing well <3

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr @/trashmouthuris


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